


Origin

by beary_scary



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: AU, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, poor timmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beary_scary/pseuds/beary_scary
Summary: The (AU) story of how Tim joined the Wayne family.I wrote the first chapter in 2015 but never wrote the second. I'm putting this here so I'll be inspired to finish this two-shot.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 23
Kudos: 268





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> (I know that the ages are inaccurate but I made them like this for the story)
> 
> Dick(Nightwing): 17
> 
> Jason(Robin): 13
> 
> Tim: 8

When Tim was little, he learned that he was not complete. His parents would tell him,

"You need to try harder."

"Be better."

"Just stop."

"Don't do that."

"You can do better than that."

"Try this."

"Do this instead."

It never stopped.

For all eight years of his life, Tim thought that he was not enough. He thought that he always had to change his person. Change his personality, change his hair, change how he dressed.

Everything must be changed.

Tim is not allowed to be Tim.

When his parents would go away, he would stay home alone. Up until he was five, he stayed with a caretaker, until his parents deemed him old enough to stay home by himself.

Though, on some occasions, he would stay with the Waynes. He grew up right next door, but would only see them five to ten times a year. He looked up to the oldest adopted son, Dick, and then he became close friends with Jason when Bruce adopted him as well. He would watch as the two adopted brothers grew up and became the Robins. He watched as Dick grew into Nightwing and Jason grew into Robin.

They didn't have to change who they are. Dick used the skills he acquired from growing up in the circus to his advantage on patrol and Jason used his street smarts he acquired, from being an orphan on the streets to his advantage in battle.

Tim was just….Tim.

There was nothing that made him think of himself as special. Tim could take pictures, yeah. And he was pretty smart for his age, but the nine-year-old was no superhero.

He wanted to leave his house just to take pictures, but he didn't want to upset his parents. They were currently home, and Tim did not want to make their limited time home frustrating.

Last time he disobeyed his father, he was not allowed to eat for two days and he had an angry, red hand mark on his back for a week.

Now, Tim was awaiting his parents' arrival. They were spending the night at a party to celebrate his father having sold a new product to LexCorp.

There was a knock on the door which confused Tim. His parents never knocked. This is their home. Why would they be knocking?

Tim walked over to the door and picked up the stool he placed next to it so he could see through the peephole. The nine-year-old looked through and saw three men. Two of them were dressed in blue and had matching uniforms while the one in the middle wore a trench coat and had a graying mustache.

Tim didn't want to answer the door without his parents home, but he didn't want to upset the Gotham Police Officers.

Tim hesitantly opened the door and peeked his head around to look up at the three men.

The one in the coat looked down at him with carefully concealed surprise, "Are you, Timothy?"

Tim nodded.

"Do you know where your parents are?"

Tim nodded.

"Are you home alone?"

Tim nodded.

"Can you come with us?"

Tim froze.

He wasn't supposed to leave the house. Ever. Not when Mother and Father were in town. And they were. They're just at a party. But these men are police officers. He can always trust the police. Especially Detective Gordon. He helped Batman.

Tim nodded.

~~ ******************* ~~

Tim didn't like sitting in the police cruiser. The two other officers went in a different car so Tim could go with Detective Gordon. The seats were uncomfortable and Tim couldn't stop the anxiety clawing at his chest.

Did he do something wrong?

Did Mother and Father give him away?

Are they taking him to jail?

"Are you alright back there, kid?"

Tim looked at Detective Gordon through the rearview mirror and nodded.

"You don't talk much, do you?" The Detective asked.

Tim shrugged. He never really had anyone to talk to. His parents didn't like hearing his voice.

Detective Gordon sighed and continued to drive the car to the police station.

~~ ******************* ~~

Tim looked out the window of the police station. It looked to be around midnight and his parents should be home right now.

Are they worried about him?

Did they even notice?

"Timothy?"

Tim didn't even glance at the random police officer this time as he could see the woman in the window's reflection.

The woman smiled at him kindly, "Do you want something to eat?"

Tim thought back to his parents and how they would be mad if he ate without them. Tim shook his head. The woman continued to smile at him but her eyes reflected his pity for him.

Tim hated that.

The woman eventually walked away and Tim was left to silence again.

It wasn't twenty minutes later when Tim heard some people walking up the stairs to the roof. He immediately grew curious. Could they be doing what he thinks they're doing?

Tim pulled the window open enough to see the dark sky. He saw exactly what he was expecting.

The Bat-Signal.

Tim crouched as he crept up the stairs. The detective was already on the roof, but Tim refused to underestimate the police officers. Especially if Batman was on the roof, so he continued to tiptoe up the stairs.

Tim slowly peeked around the door frame and saw just what he was expecting. The two police officers and the detective standing next to the Bat-Signal. But what really surprised Tim, were the two shadows lurking in the corner of the roof.

By the looks on the officers' faces, they haven't noticed the shadows yet. Tim just remained amazed as the two shadows finally revealed themselves to the officers.

_Batman aka Bruce Wayne_

and

_Robin aka Jason Todd_

Tim let out an amazed gasp that seemed to have attracted the attention of the smaller shadow, Robin, who seemed to shake it off.

"What is it, Detective?" Batman asked gruffly.

Detective Gordon sighed, "Something happened with the Drake family."

The Caped Crusader stiffened, which would have gone unnoticed by everyone on the roof if Tim wasn't there. "What happened?"

"The Drakes are dead," Tim froze "and their orphan son is in the interrogation room."


	2. Warm Words

_Detective Gordon sighed, "Something happened with the Drake family."_

_The Caped Crusader stiffened, which would have gone unnoticed by everyone on the roof if Tim wasn't there. "What happened?"_

_"The Drakes are dead," Tim froze "and their orphan son is in the interrogation room."_

In all the movies Tim had seen, whenever the main character hears startling news, they gasp in shock. Yet, when Tim heard of his parents’ deaths, no gasp occurred. 

Tim stayed silent.

Tim stayed silent just as he was taught. Just as his parents raised him to be. A silent shadow.

The type of shadow that allowed him to sneak across Gotham’s rooftops without leaving a trace or alerting the city’s protectors. Her valiant knights remained unaware of the curiously clever boy haunting their footsteps.

The type of shadow that allowed Tim to stay quiet and not attract extra attention at one of the many galas his parents paraded him around. Besides the frequent-

 _“Such a well behaved child you have there!”_ ,

 _“I wish I trained mine to do that.”_ , or

_“How on earth did you make yours so quiet?”_

The eight-year-old remained under the radar of the party-goers. Only brought along like an accessory or a purse dog. 

Tim always knew that he was not complete but taking note of his lack of reaction towards his parents’ death made him feel broken.

Why couldn’t he feel sad?

Why wasn’t he shaking, crying, throwing a violent tantrum to see his parents again?

 _“It’s not proper, Timothy,”_ Janet’s voice haunted in his ear.

She’s right. It wouldn’t be proper to scream and cry. 

With that thought, Tim ignored the conversation that continued on the rooftop and snuck his way back into the interrogation room.

He failed to notice the curious bird tracking his every move.

**\------------------**

“Well, what do we do now?” Jason asked as he and Bruce exited the Batmobile upon entry into the Batcave.

Bruce removed his cowl, “We continue the investigation. No doubt there was foul play involved,” he answered as he steadily made his way to their large computer.

Jason shook his head, “No, I mean with the kid. What do we do with their kid?”

Both of them were aware that this was their little eight-year-old neighbor they were talking about. They would often see Tim at galas as he was either bragged about by his parents or ignored as if he were the scum on Gotham’s sidewalks.

“I was made Timothy’s godfather when he was born,” Bruce sighed, “but that was Jack Drake’s decision and it only took a few years for Janet to change that.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She didn’t want Timothy to have any type of godparent. I assume it’s because that may complicate things with wills and inheritance,” Bruce gently explained. He knew how agitated his thirteen-year-old could become when neglectful or questionable parents were involved. Even while out on patrol sometimes, he could see Robin putting extra force behind his punches to those who would hurt kids.

Said thirteen-year-old scoffed as he began removing his boots, “So those uppity assholes cared more about where their wealth was going than where their son was going?” 

Bruce nearly scolded him on his language but he couldn’t help but agree. He’d seen how the Drakes treated their son. Each occasion only succeeded in filling him with a protective rage. No child should be dismissed as if they are nothing more than a burden. Yet, that’s exactly what the Drakes did.

“It would seem so, Jaylad.”

Nobody was surprised when Jason lashed out and threw one of his boots to the other side of the cave’s platform. 

**\------------------**

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink, Timothy?” 

The kind policewoman hasn’t left his side since she entered the interrogation room three minutes and forty-two seconds after he returned from the roof. 

Tim shook his head, “No thank you, ma’am,” he denied politely. A voice in his head reminded him that his parents were no longer there to scold him for being impolite. There was no longer a need to put on an act.

The woman looked at him with tight lips and eyes swimming with pity, “If you change your mind, just let me know,” she stood from her crouched position in front of Tim, “I’m gonna be right back,”

The policewoman exited the room. Her assurances meant nothing to the now alone boy.

“We’re going to be back soon, Timothy. Please do not make any messes while we are gone,”

Tim was used to people leaving him. 

**\------------------**

Jason, now in flannel pajamas (a Christmas gift from Dick), rolled around in an office chair while Bruce was focused on the computer. The comforting sounds of bats tickled his ears as his thoughts swarmed him. The teenager could vividly remember his interactions with Tim at some of the fancy galas Bruce took him to. His interactions with the younger boy were brief but entertaining. 

Jack and Janet Drake brought Tim to show him off to others. It was well known that, in Gotham, the Elites’ children were commonly the centerpiece of the family. They were their heirs. Never wholeheartedly meant to be their children who they dote on or fawn over. No, the children were used as status symbols who the parents would utilize to carry on their company and bloodline. Timothy Drake was a prime example of this.

A running joke between the Drakes and some other high-class assholes is how ‘well-trained’ Tim is. Jason’s skin itched whenever he heard such praises. Their child was merely a glorified lapdog to them. A lapdog who they apparently trained so well that childless Gotham Elites were bombarding the police for custody of the boy. 

None of it sat well with Jason. It seemed that Bruce shared his sentiments because he was taking a break from the investigation of the Drakes’ death in favor of auto-denying any applications put in for custody of Tim.

Jason kicked a leg across the ground to propel his chair towards Bruce’s, “Y’know, you seem to care a lot about where Timtam is gonna be going for someone who won’t take him in, himself,” he cheekily remarked.

Bruce leveled him with an unimpressed look, “I never said I _won’t_ take Timothy in- I said I was no longer his godfather,”

“So...what are you- Oh shit you’re stalling, aren’t you?” Jason shot up excitedly as he saw the emails to the foster care agent Bruce stayed in contact with that the man was completing.

Allowing a small smile to grace his features, Bruce shrugged, “I need to wait for confirmation that I’m able to house two children at the same time. Might as well get rid of some competitors while I wait,” Jason wanted to wrap the man in a hug but held back.

When Robin saw Tim hiding on the GCPD rooftop, he felt an immediate connection. The gala conversations with the younger boy lasted long enough for Jason to feel the need to wrap him up and never let anyone or anything hurt him. 

Once Tim heard the news of his parents, Jason was able to see his small body tense up. Yet, the boy didn’t make a noise. There was no gut-wrenching cry of dismay. No scream of denial. No poorly-concealed sniffles. The boy seemed numb as he silently left the roof.

The bat computer ‘dinged’ as an incoming email notification flashed across the screen. Bruce quickly clicked it open and sped through the details. A grin spread across his face.

“I’m approved for taking in another child,” He relayed the information to Jason.

The boy excitedly ran to the changing room where he kept a spare set of clothes, “How soon can we pick him up?” 

“As soon as one of us tells Alfred,”

“...rock, paper, scissors?”

“Two out of three,”

**\------------------**

“You know I don’t have much pull here, Mr. Wayne,”

“I know, Jim, but I refuse to let him be lost in the system,” Bruce firmly stated, “Jack made Timothy my godson when he was born. They only changed that for legal complications. Surely this information will help me, at the very least, foster Timothy,” Okay maybe that was a bit of a lie but Janet never told anyone her true intentions behind removing him as Tim’s godfather.

“Mr. Wayne-”

“Please help me honor Jack’s wishes and allow me to take the boy home with me,” Using a dead man’s name to get his way: not good. Using a dead man’s name to help aid said dead man’s son: good. “I will have all the necessary paperwork taken care of by tomorrow but an eight-year-old shouldn’t be kept at a police station as he processes the death of his parents,”

Jim Gordon sighed. Plenty of Gotham’s richest contacted the station to demand custody of the boy, yet, Bruce Wayne was the only one to actually step foot in the station and plead his case. He was also the only candidate to actually be approved by the foster system, “I’ll go get the papers,” Bruce’s face relaxed as a grin replaced his determined frown. Jim turned to Officer Waroba, “Can you retrieve Timothy from interrogation room six?” Waroba nodded and immediately left to complete his request.

When Officer Waroba came back with the small black-haired boy standing next to her, his heart took on a familiar ache. One that screamed: “Protect. Hold. Hide.” His paternal instincts were in overdrive as he kneeled in front of Timothy.

“Hi, Timothy. I’m Bruce Wayne, a friend of your parents,” he introduced himself. Timothy looked deep into his eyes. Almost like he was searching for some unasked question. Seeming to find it, the boy silently stuck out his hand in greeting. Bruce returned the handshake, slightly disturbed by the young boy’s behavior. He was acting more like a forty-year-old than an eight-year-old.

At that moment, Jim returned with the papers in a manila folder. He smiled gently at Tim, “Bruce is a good friend of mine. He’ll take care of you,” Tim nodded shyly. Accepting that as a good enough response, Jim gave the folder to Bruce, “I’m gonna need these filled out and mailed to the address on the front of the folder by the end of the week.”

Bruce gratefully accepted the folder, “Thank you, Jim. I owe you one,”

Jim waved him off, “Just take good care of that boy, you hear me?”

Nodding, Bruce gently took Timothy’s hand and bid Officer Waroba and Jim a goodnight.

**\------------------**

Tim stared idly out the car window. Gotham’s night lights blurred together as Mr. Wayne’s butler, Mr. Pennyworth, drove them back to Wayne Manor.

“Jason is excited to meet you. He wanted to come with me to retrieve you from the station but I thought it would be too overwhelming for you to meet all of us at the same time,”

Mr. Wayne talked more than his parents ever did. His voice was also warmer than their own. 

Janet’s words were always paired with her icicle eyes that many told tales of. “The Ice Queen of Gotham” is a name for his mother that Tim heard quite often. Many of her words were laced with some kind of underlying poison. Janet Drake’s weapon of choice was her tongue she wielded like a double-edged sword and her battlegrounds were social gatherings.

Jack’s words were less biting and more breaking. Full of broken promises and apologies so empty that they could be compared to a snakeskin. Jack Drake’s words were not weapons but contenders. Never really in the fight but not to be dismissed or overlooked.

Mr. Wayne’s words made Tim feel as if he were dethawing in front of a fire. Years of hurt melted off his skin the more Mr. Wayne spoke to him. Tim could hardly pay attention to the actual meaning behind the man’s words as he relished in the warmth.

“-sure Jason could help you with your room. You probably wouldn’t want to take decoration advice from an old man like me,” Mr. Wayne laughed.

“If you are an old man, then what, pray tell, am I, Master Wayne?”

The accented voice startled Tim out of his musings. He watched as Mr. Wayne began to sputter in embarrassment while the man tried to form a response to the butler’s teasing. Making eye contact with Mr. Pennyworth in the rear-view mirror, Tim was able to see the twinkle in his knowledgable eyes. A small smile pulled at Tim’s cheeks.

“Alfred, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

**\------------------**

Tim stepped out of the car door that Alfred held open for him and looked up at Wayne Manor. He’d been in its presence once at a fundraiser event but he was merely four-years-old and could only remember snippets of that night (no matter how good his memory was). 

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, a striking contrast to Jack’s rough hands steering him through crowds while digging his thumb into Tim’s should blade. Or Janet’s perfectly manicured nails digging into his skin while she laughed off whatever he said; a clear sign that ‘ _we will be talking about this later, Timothy’_.

“Are you with me, Timothy?” Mr. Wayne’s warm _(fireplace, molten lava cake, a hug)_ voice cut through his memories.

Tim swallowed his nerves and held in a wince at the feeling of his scratchy throat before opening his mouth for the first time in what felt like forever, “Tim. Please call me Tim, Mr. Wayne,”

Mr. Wayne’s smile somehow got softer, “Alright, Tim. Then you can call me, Bruce. Would you like to go inside now?”

Blushing, Tim nodded as he realized that he, Bruce, and Mr. Pennyworth had been standing outside for a minute too long. With that, Bruce guided him up the stairs and to the front door. 

As the grand doors opened, a thought settled on Tim’s shoulders like bricks: 

He was in Bruce Wayne’s home. 

He was in Batman’s home. 

Tim was going to be living with Batman for the foreseeable future. 

His spiraling thoughts were cut short by Jason Todd neatly jumping over the banister of the stairs and running towards him and Bruce.

“Jason, how many times have I-” “Yeah, yeah, no jumping over the banister and all that crap,” Jason cut him off. 

Tim startled. Were people allowed to act that way towards their guardians? If he had acted that way towards his parents, they would have taken food privileges away before sending him to another boarding school. Then again, this was Batman and Robin. They had a different dynamic than most families. 

Jason turned his sharp grin towards Tim, “Timberly! Glad to see Brucie didn’t pick up the wrong shrimp-hoarder,” he snarked with a fond look in his eyes.

Tim flushed pink and scowled at the teenager, “I wasn’t hoarding them and you know it! I was just trying to get as many as I could in one trip because it was hard to reach,” he glowered.

Jason laughed and wrapped an arm around Tim’s small shoulders as Bruce looked on confused yet pleased, “Sure, shrimp-hoarder,”

It didn’t take long for Bruce to realize Jason was teasing Tim in order for him to relax enough for him to go to bed. If the boy went to bed thinking about his parents and how he is now living with a man he hardly knew, he would probably be unable to sleep. So now, Jason was taking his mind off such thoughts with teasing and light jabs.

Jason was already becoming an older brother to Tim and Bruce loved it.

**\------------------**

They all sat in the sitting room with Alfred’s hot chocolate in each of their hands and a warm fireplace encompassing them in heat.

Tim sipped his drink absentmindedly as he stared into the flickerings of the fire. 

Jason shared a concerned look with his guardian, “Anything you wanna talk about, Timmers?”

The younger shook his head numbly.

Bruce sighed and moved closer to his two wards, “Tim. I need you to know that we, Alfred, Jason, and I, are here for you. We can’t replace your parents and we aren’t going to attempt to, but we are here to love and support you.”

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” Tim asked emotionlessly.

“They are.”

“Hmm,” Tim hummed.

Bruce rested a comforting hand on the nape of Tim’s neck, “You’re probably really tired now so how about we finish up this hot chocolate and then we can show you to your room?” he suggested. Jason gave him a sly thumbs up.

Tim shrugged but continued to drink his hot beverage.

The three finished quickly and Bruce led the way up the stairs. Jason stuck next to Tim as he retold stories of events that took place in the manor’s hallways with a dramatic flair.

Finally making it to the guest room closest to Jason’s, Bruce opened the door to allow Tim entry into the navy blue bedroom.

“It’s lacking personality but I’m sure we can fix that whenever you’re ready,” Tim nodded and made his way around the room, familiarizing himself with it, “The bathroom is connected through this door and the closet is right over there. I’ll grab some of Jason’s older clothes for you to wear until we can retrieve your own from your house tomorrow. Nothing in this house is off-limits to you except the kitchen- that’s Alfred’s domain,” Tim sat down on his new bed and continued to look around the room’s entirety, “Do you have any other questions, Tim?”

The boy snapped out of his revere and looked at both Bruce and Jason with eyes glittering and wonder and an excited smile that automatically made him look more his age, “I just have one question,” Bruce nodded in encouragement,

_“When do I get to see the Batcave?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing style definitely changed holy cow!  
> Thank y'all for hanging in there as I wrote this chapter!
> 
> (Should I do a third? Oh god is this going to turn into a multi-chapter oh no now I'm going to be thinking of ideas but i already have a big Marvel fic I'm writing AND I'm starting college soon I do not have time for another one)
> 
> (okay but fr let me know if i should turn this into a multi-chapter fic with slow updates)


End file.
